


Heaven, Hell, and the Winchesters - 🥀🥀 - Wattpad

by Deanmonic_angel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Demons, Depression, F/M, Falling In Love, Ghosts, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural - Freeform, The Impala - Freeform, idk what im doing man, might fuck around and post on tumblr, this is on wattpad too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:28:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23729059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deanmonic_angel/pseuds/Deanmonic_angel
Summary: "Heaven is a mystery, Hell is real."Posted this on wattpad and stuff.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)





	1. Chapter 1

[1] — "The Beginning" (basically the prologue)

I was born to William and Elizabeth Cunningham, both hunters, on February 1st, 1981. My mom had left me when I was very young which led my father to continue hunting. On March 21st, 1985, I remember very clearly that my father was on a werewolf case with Bobby Singer and I remember that the werewolf burst into mine and my dad's hotel room, ripping him to shreds and ate his heart. I remember the agony filled screams as he was eaten alive; I remember all the blood that sprayed all over the walls. Now frightened, I ran, not caring if the werewolf chased after me. I ran to Bobby's room and immediately; I was taken to his old house in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

There, I was raised by the grumpy, old man and went to the Sioux Falls Grade School and Middle School that was with the high school. A man and his two sons would show up before the man left again, leaving the two sons there with Bobby and I. They were Sam and Dean, Dean being two years older than I was and Sam being two years younger. Immediately, we became the best of friends. We would always play with each other when they were over. As we grew older we also grew apart, ruining the brother and sister-ship that Sam and I had and the flirtation ship that Dean and I had. But the bond was still there.

I remember, as a teenager, that I would always think about Dean, even when we were together, but he would not spare me a look. He was busy with Bobby and John while Sam and I were the outcasts, both hating the life that was provided for us. Both wanting to be normal...

It wasn't until I was an adult that Dean had noticed me more. I had longer legs, better, more prominent curves with a slimmer face and a sharper jawline. He began to flirt with me just like he did when we were teenagers, but I was busy with my job; hunting. I moved out of Bobby's house and went on my own.

And that's how my story begins.


	2. 2

[2] — "So We Meet Again"

Despite the fact that I was alone with no friends and no family, I enjoyed my life, which is very strange for a hunter. Especially a hunter who is alone. I enjoyed the solitude I had, driving at night listening to my favorite genre of music, rock. I enjoyed laying in the motel room bed, with nothing but my thoughts and the pay-per-view. I enjoyed being alone.

I was left with my thoughts as the man I brought to my room felt my leather-clad body up and down. I acted like I enjoyed the sex we had together, but I didn't. Instead, I imagined the man as my childhood best friend, Dean Winchester but that wasn't enough. So as the man thrusts in and out of my damaged body, I thought and thought.

I raised a hand to push my hair out of my face, looking at the man's face. He was a little scruffy, his skin tan. His eyes were a gray-blue color and his lips were thin, but not thin enough to make it seem like he had no lips at all. His body type was athletic, and he was very muscular, leaving me to think about what he did for a living. He had freckles all over his face, giving him an adorable look along with dimples in both cheeks when he smiled. But under all that gorgeousness, he was a horrible fuck.

Damn.

He was close to his climax, but I was nowhere near it, so I faked mine when he came into the condom he was wearing. After checking it, he tied it up and threw it away. He left without a word, but he dressed before that, obviously.

I let out a long sigh and turned on my side. I wonder how they're doing now? Last time I saw them, they were busy with looking for their father.

I'll check later, I just need some sleep.

I put an arm under my head, closed my blue eyes and fell asleep.

🌀🥀🌀

When I woke, my phone was blinking with a message. I let out a grunt and flipped open my flip phone and looked at it.

Dean:  
Bobby needs us to work a case together. Apparently, it's major... where are you?

Dean Winchester started getting in contact with me again, and I didn't initiate it! I started typing on the textile keyboard with a reply.

Me:  
Manhattan, the college was haunted but I took care of it. Where is the case? I'll meet you and Sam there.

Dean:  
Detroit. Most likely a witch. Meet us at Wendy's.

I furrowed my eyebrows but got off the bed nonetheless. I packed my clothes I wore yesterday and took out an outfit. I pulled on a bra and boy-cut underwear with a band muscle t-shirt, my dad's leather jacket, and ripped jeans. I sat on the bed to pull on my socks and boots before I pulled my hair up in a ponytail.

I zipped up my bag and walked out of the room. I went to the lobby and turned in my room key while paying for the nights I stayed. I then walked out of the motel and to my motorcycle, sighing as I sat on the seat and kicked up the kickstand which started my vehicle.

The Offspring's "Gonna Go Far, Kid" started playing through the radio and I mouthed along while I put on my helmet. I drove off to Detroit, Michigan.

🌀🥀🌀

There's just about a thousand Wendy's here and there's so many cars, so I can't point out the Impala!

Deciding to take a risk, I turned to a parking lot of one of the Wendy's and parked in the spot reserved for motorcycles and such. I put down the kickstand and looked around, grinning to myself when I saw the sleek black of the '67 Chevy Impala. I got off of my vehicle and made my way to the car, running my fingers over the cool metal before making my way inside the restaurant.

There the two brothers were, talking while looking at the case on Sam's laptop. I strode over to them and sat down in a chair. "What makes you two think it's a witch?" I asked softly, leaning on the table, smiling.

Dean raised his green, broken eyes to look at me before muttering a "hello", while Sam was the total opposite. He got up from his seat, which made me get up, and pulled me into a tight hug.

"Hey, Shaggy," I said to the younger man, smiling.

"So we meet again, Cunningham," Sam greeted, grinning and sat back down, and I did the same as him. "Okay, listen to this."

I nodded, leaning against the table as I listened to the case that they had found.

"Okay so a lady named Marie Cooper was living alone, but she had a lot of friends and a lot of mental issues. She was schizophrenic, she had depression and was an alcoholic. She passed away on March 31st because of asphyxiation, but, get this, she had plenty of oxygen and the windows were open."

"When we went to her house," Dean said, putting up a finger. "We found this." He rummaged in his jacket pocket and pulled out a hex bag, laying it on the center of the table. "Boom."

"So a witch," I commented, raising an eyebrow. "Fun."

Dean chuckled slightly and put the bag back in his pocket. "I'm starving," he mumbled.

"Well go order something," Sam said, rolling his hazel eyes. He got up and got what we want and walked away.

"Welcome back," Sam said to me, smiling softly.


	3. 3

[3] — "The Lion, The Witch..."

There was another killing after we had finished eating, so we drove off, changed into our Fed outfits, and started driving to the house the man was killed in.

I had to ride in the Impala with my two old friends because Feds don't drive motorcycles, I don't think.

I got out of the old car while Sam and Dean stayed in it, preparing their fake IDs while I had mine already in my pocket. I leaned against the black car, my arms crossed over my chest as I waited for the brothers to get out. After they did, we went over to the officers that were blocking the door and showed them our badges.

"I'm Agent Powell, these are my partners," Dean said, pointing towards us. "Agent Keys and Agent Lee."

We put our badges away while a black police officer hummed. "Now why would the Feds be interested in a murder?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

"Listen, Officer..." I started, my lip wedged in between my teeth. "Griffin, we've been dry on cases, so they put us here."

His partner, a chubby, tan man that's starting to bald raised an eyebrow. "Agent Lee, correct?"

I nodded slightly, my arms crossed over my chest as I waited for him to continue.

"I'm Officer Menendez," he replied.

"Well good for you. Now let us in, so we can do our jobs," I snapped irritably as I pushed past the two older men, ducking underneath the police tape, the two brothers following suit. I imagined Dean rolling his green eyes at my actions but also had a slight smile while Sam smiled at the officers to apologize for my actions.

I stood up straight, grumbling to myself. "Well, ladies, let's get to work." I turned to them, smiling through the pain while I rubbed my hands together.

🌀🥀🌀

After we finished looking around the house, checking for any hex bags, but we didn't find any, we went to the coroner's. My two old friends looked like they were going to puke when they saw blood in the evidence bags, because, well, there was a hex bag inside the man's stomach and in his throat, which probably caused him to suffocate. I, on the other hand, looked completely normal. I'm pretty sure I had a dead-pan face the entire time.

That's what happens when others hunt alone. Well, that's what happens when I hunt alone... I get really unsympathetic, like I have no soul, but I had no one to talk to, no one to have my back. Hell, I've almost died on multiple occasions, which has probably got me so cold.

When we finished examining and asking questions, we headed out, now on our next part of the plan. Splitting up to talk to neighbors of the two victims. Well, we didn't entirely split up. Dean thought he needed me to be with him because of how I am, so I let him.

However, before we did talk to the neighbors, we stopped at the motel, so I can drive my motorcycle with Dean while Sam can drive Baby, and Dean had to acquiescent to the plan, but grumbled something about if he finds a scratch on her, he'd kill him.

I rolled my eyes at Dean and got on the bike, putting my helmet on while handing Dean a spare one that I always kept, in case I had someone with me. "My rules if you're gonna ride with me," I said coolly as I shoved it into his chest. "You always wear one, no matter how invincible you think you are."

Dean's green eyes widened in surprise at my tone. I bet he thought that, since I had this huge crush on him, I'd be nicer. Not anymore, Winchester. I've changed.

He put on the helmet and buckled it underneath his chin. I did the same as him and started the bike, speeding off. I felt Dean almost fly backwards because he didn't expect that, but he wrapped his muscular arms around my torso and I tried hard to not imagine how it'd be like during sex.

Definitely going to get a wet dream tonight...

🌀🥀🌀

The three of us met up at a restaurant to get dinner. We needed to talk about what we had found at during our investigation.

Sadly, none of us had good information. We don't have a lead... not just yet anyways.

But what I do know is that it's a witch.

🌀🥀🌀

We still couldn't figure out who the witch was and why he, or she, killed the two targets. I mean, it was obvious that it was going after those with mental illnesses, the woman was suffering from depression and schizophrenia while the man suffered from PTSD. So that's a lead, a small one, but a lead is a lead.

After debating in my head whether I should tell them what I figured out about it, I don't really want to look stupid in front of the older and younger Winchester because they might have already figured it out... If I don't tell them, however, and if they didn't figure it out, then they'll be left in the dark.

I decided to tell them.

"Sam? Dean? I think I figured out a lead," I said in a strong voice. I hate working with others, they don't listen to me. They step on my feet, metaphorically of course, and they don't take my advice. I hope it's not like that with the two brothers, I don't know how much has changed.

The two men looked up at me with expectant eyes. Dean's muscular arms were crossed over his chest which made him look all the more alluring and sexy while Sam had stopped in the middle of typing on his laptop, probably researching with the unlimited and surprising access to WiFi.

"I think the witch might be going after those with mental illnesses," I started. "I mean, think about it! The woman had depression and schizophrenia and the man had PTSD. It's obvious!"

Dean and Sam shared a look, speaking in their telepathic way. I never understood how they could speak that way, how they could understand what the other is saying. Maybe it's some sibling thing that I don't know about? I am an only child after all, and I'll never have the chance of having siblings, seeing as my father is dead and my mother... I don't know her whereabouts. Maybe I should take one of those tests?

I stared at the brothers, hoping at least one of them will talk to me about this whole situation. I need one of them to talk to me about what they're thinking about to each other. I bounced impatiently on the balls of my feet as I waited for an answer.

The two finally looked back at me. "If that were the case," Dean started out slowly. "How would we know who the next target is? How would we know what's wrong with them?"

I stared at Dean with a look only filled with disgust. What's wrong with them? That's not a right way to reference to those who are suffering a lot because of what they've been through.

"What Dean means is: how would we know if they have a mental illness or not?"

"I mean, I have depression," I replied, raising an eyebrow. "I don't know if the witch goes after those with the same illnesses as she did with the other victims. But it's worth a shot."

"We could find out who the witch is and gank that sum'bitch then and there. I like your thinking, Cunningham."

The only thing that made me upset is that he didn't even remark on what I said about having depression.


	4. 4

[4] — "Show Me How To Lie"

It was later that day. Sam and Dean were trailing behind me to make sure everything went smoothly. And by smoothly, I mean me getting kidnapped by the witch until Sam and Dean save my stupid ass. I glanced over at the brothers, my best friends, and nodded slightly. I'm ready.. scared and anxious, but ready. I took in a deep breath before sitting down at the bar, shaking as I ordered a beer.

What if something horrible goes wrong? What if I'm dead by the time they get there? I mean, good riddance, one less person in the world. I bit my lip as those thoughts ran through my head, my anxiety shooting through the roof. Curse you pessimistic mind. Curse depression and anxiety. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it!

I jumped when I felt a light hand on my back, calm immediately surging through my veins. I looked up, expecting my friend but it wasn't him. In fact, it was a completely different person. I pursed my lips, alarm replacing the calm. I soothed my nerves, not wanting to show how I was really feeling. The person sat beside me, a soft smile on their lips.

Relaxation.. calm... I could just melt away by their touch and the way they smile... Maybe that's how the witch gets them! They feel this.. false sense of security when they're around it.

I shifted in my seat, now uncomfortable. If that was true, then this person that's sitting beside me is the witch! My anxiety hit again after the moment of calm and I started to shake again. I immediately looked away from the man sitting beside me and grabbed my beer once it was brought to me. I took a giant swig out of it, biting my lip. I don't need this.

He touched my back again, calm surging through. I sighed as I turned towards the suspected witch, smiling sweetly at him. "Hey, doll..." I purred, batting my eyes flirtatiously at him.

He didn't seem phased at it, but he leaned forward and held my hand. "I can help you with that, sweetheart..." he mumbled. "Your depression... anxiety. It can all go away... with my help..." he grinned at me. I believed him. Everything about how he said it, his movements, and his body language made me believe him. I forgot I was a hunter on a mission to kill this witch.

"What do you say..?" He said softly, a grin forming on his lips. The grin unsettled me, to say the least, but I didn't care. I wanted it gone. Wordlessly, I nodded my head, stuck in a trance. He smirked and got up from his seat, helping me down.

He held his hand as he walked with me. Everything about him was so... comforting... I couldn't think straight. I wanted it gone.

I forgot about Dean. Sam. All I could focus on was this man. My hand in his. Leading me into imminent doom.


	5. 5

[5] - So It Begins  
(Something y'all will understand soon👀)

Slice. Scream. Repeat.

He decided to... bleed me out, give me a slow death. Not very witchy, but it's alright. I watched through my hair, it had fallen in my face during the torture, as he got up abruptly with the knife held tight in his hand. As he walked away, I tried to devise a plan.

He used handcuffs and there's nothing around that I could pick the lock with. I don't think I even want to try. I shifted in my spot, hissing when I felt all my stab wounds and cuts sting.

Oh god, the blood. I could just vomit right then and there. There's so much of it already... I leaned my head back as my heartbeat quickened. I'm going to die, aren't I? Sam and Dean are taking forever...

This wasn't the plan...

I heard his heavy footsteps.. then I heard him squat beside me. I don't know what he did... but I knew he did something.

Then it hit me. He stabbed the blade into my shoulder, I immediately screamed out. Then, the smell of burning flesh came to my nostrils and that's when I realized he headed up the knife. I continued to scream in agony; it hurt so much! The fact that the blade was burning me and the fact that I have a fresh stab wound in my fucking shoulder is enough to make me want to die.

Like I haven't tried to die already, but that's beside the point.

My vision began to fade in and out, my breathing becoming shallow. This is it. Thoughts flashed through my mind... Sam.. Dean.. Bobby... I'm going to leave the people I love behind... I didn't get a chance to tell Dean that I love him, or even have sex with him. I don't want to die...

Now I contradicted myself. All these years, I've been facing depression and anxiety! I'm.. I want to die... I've been trying to for so long and... this is it! Joy rushed through. I started to smile at the fact but then he twisted the blade. The.. agony I was going through was unbearable. I... need to die.

I slumped over in my spot, my whole body becoming numb. I couldn't feel the blade that was dug deep into my shoulder anymore. I... couldn't feel anything. That... scares the hell out of me...

I'm not going to fight it. I'm going to let everything go. Everybody is better off without me, I'm just... a burden. So, as I sit there, I decided to let it all go. My heartbeat slowed down to nothing.

And that was it.

🌀🥀🌀

I gasped for air before I started to cough. The wounds on my chest reopened and it hurt like hell. The pain is so indescribable but all I can say is that it feels like fire. I thought I was dead?

I feel arms wrapped around me. Strong... arms that somehow feel familiar to me... I feel the blood trickling down my body. What's... going on?

I try to open my eyes, but it didn't work needless to say... Am I alive? Or am I dreaming dead?

That has a good tune to it. "Am I alive and well. Or am I dreaming dead?" I quite like that actually, someone should make it into a song.

I was brought back into reality when pain coursed through my body, which caused me to scream out in agony. I tried to listen for voices, but I heard none. Well, I can hear muffled voices but that was about it.

I immediately started to panic. Why can't I hear anything? I want to hear things... I love hearing voices, I love hearing rain and the sound of the river rushing. I love hearing the impala's engine rumble, even if she's old, and I love hearing my bike. Will I ever be able to hear the things I love again?

I tried to open my eyes again. I hate seeing just black. I began to struggle against my eyelids. Why won't they open?! I want to see! Let me see!

I felt something small and sharp prick into my arm. The person who did that just... left it there. This is... uncomfortable. Take it out! Take it out! For the love of god, take it out! I don't want it!

I then drifted back into unconsciousness...

🌀🥀🌀

It was a struggle to open my eyes, but I finally did after a long time. One at a time, they opened and I was met with a bright light. God? Is that you? I thought I wasn't dead?

I then hear beeping like that of a heartbeat monitor. That's when I knew I was alive. I moved my head ever so slightly, which made me wince, to make sure that I was alive. It was confirmed when I was met with a machine. I turned my head back into its original position, my head starting to pound.

I'm in a... hospital. Which means Sam and Dean got there in the nick of time and saved my stupid ass. Thank the Lord for those two, I don't know what I would do without them. Actually, if it weren't for them or Bobby, I probably would've killed myself because I was an orphan; not saying that orphans are bad I just wouldn't have been able to deal.

I weakly put my hand up to my forehead, grunting softly. Now I know exactly what people mean when blood transfusions suck, assuming I had one. I'm pretty sure I did, because I lost a lot of blood.

Nauseating.... I have a headache. I'm hot... goddamnit, I don't like this.

I sighed before I started coughing. Fuck, I can't be sick. Not yet. "I feel... nauseous," I muttered, my voice raspy.

I immediately heard footsteps head towards my bed so I looked over to where the sound was coming from. I was met with concerned green eyes and a beautiful face. "Dean..." I breathed out, glad to see him. I smiled weakly up at the man I loved, but I didn't get a smile back. Only a frown. 

For a minute, I thought he was going to yell at me for being stupid. For almost letting myself get killed and not fight it. I knew that we were going to have a talk about it, though. I can feel it.

Dean sighed, pulling up a chair to sit beside me. He looked... angry, as if he was pissed at himself.

I frowned at the freckled man that sat beside me, holding out my hand for him to hold. He hesitantly took it, his thumb running over my knuckles. The action soothed me, really. It made me happy. You know that feeling you get when you know you're safe with that specific person? That's what I'm feeling right here.

He pursed his lips. "I'm... sorry, Aar Bear," he whispered, using the nickname he gave me when we were kids. "Goddamnit, I should've been there for you from the get-go.. I shouldn't have agreed to your idea so quickly.. I wasn't thinking. Fuck, I'm so stupid!"

I squeezed his hand, letting him know that it was okay. "De, it's okay," I began, but he wouldn't take that.

"No, it's not," he muttered. "You almost got killed, Aaren. I can't—no. I wouldn't have been able to handle that. You're my best friend.. you're all I got besides Sammy..."

The best friend part hurt me a bit... but it doesn't matter.

"Dean, I'm fine. It was just a few little scrapes here and there..." I lied. "I'm alive, okay?"

He pursed his lips, his hand slipping from mine. I frowned at that, but let it be. "You're alive," he muttered. "But you wouldn't have been if—"

"Hey, there's no if's about it," I snapped gently. I hated this about him... If anything went wrong, he would blame it on himself. It's just how life is sometimes. "You better quit this attitude, Winchester, or I'm gonna kiss it out of you." I was joking, obviously. I want to kiss him, so bad...

Dean rolled his eyes slightly. "Don't make something serious into something funny, Aar..." he whispered. "You died and then came back alive... how am I supposed to deal with that?"

"I died?" I asked, very confused. "I thought you said that I was alive, I just almost died."

Dean pursed his lips, shaking his head and got up. "Never mind," he sighed. "Just... get some rest, okay?"

I nodded slightly, frowning. "I—Don't leave me, De... please," I whispered, scared for what might happen when he does leave me. "I'm..."

"I'll be in the corner..." he said softly before he put the chair back in its right place. I watched as he walked over to the corner, his body language saying everything I need to know about how he was feeling.

I already knew that he was blaming himself for this event that went on but... damn.

Dean Winchester, this is not your fault...

🌀🥀🌀

I was finally discharged from the hospital after a week, which was the longest week of my life. Sam and Dean would usually help me ditch, but seeing as I had to get a blood transfusion, they made me stay so they could make sure the blood settled well and no dangerous side effects were there.

I was still weak though... my legs were too shaky to stand on so Dean helped me get out of my gown and into and I was very nauseous my clothes. It was odd for the both of us, since we're both close friends that's never seen each other naked. I wouldn't mind seeing Dean naked, however... he probably is carrying a huge package, which I can deal with... I bit my lip at the thought, imagining him naked... his freckles all over his body... his abs with his chub... his dick... oh fuck...

"You okay, sweetheart?" Dean asked, concerned. His voice was gruff but light, afraid he was going to hurt me. That was totally not like him, but I guess his concern was because I was biting my lip while holding onto him for support. I looked up into his green eyes, a small smile forming on my lips.

His green eyes... so beautiful. I'm so glad that there's only one percent of people with green eyes on this planet because I didn't want to see anyone with his eyes. I wish I could trade them out for my eyes, which was a blue color with a bit of brown in my right eye. I've no idea what it's called, but they're sort of pretty?

"Yeah, fine," I replied, leaning into him since I was looking for support. "Just... thinking." I then noticed the bulge in his jeans. Did he... like it when he saw me nude? Well, yeah, probably since he's Dean Winchester. A sex god. I looked back up into his eyes, discomfort flashing upon them.

Then I had an idea...


	6. 6

[6] - "Why?"

Despite Dean's "problem", he still helped me get dressed into my normal clothing. I raised my arms when I needed to, albeit it wasn't very high, and held on to his shoulders when he needed to put on my panties and sweats. He was trying his hardest to not make me feel uncomfortable with his wandering eyes and his touches, but I couldn't care less.

Soon enough, I was fully dressed with a loose, black baggy top that kind of reminded me of one of Deans shirts and grey sweatpants that hung off my hipbones. I had no bra on, which was probably to help me feel comfortable so that the straps and band didn't rub up against my bruises and cuts.

His concerned green eyes looked up at me from the floor when I winced just ever so slightly. "You good?" He asked softly, stopping himself in the action of putting on my sandals.

I nodded slightly with a small smile. "I'm good," I replied, my whole body aching. Him being there to comfort me... to help me. That was all I needed. He was my best friend, has been since childhood.

Whenever Dean was around, I always felt safe and secure. I always felt I could be myself around him.

I watched as he stood up from kneeling, a small smile on my lips. His hand grazed my wrist and side before resting it on the small of my back. It was there for balance, I'm sure, but the simple gesture had me blushing. The both of us walked out of the hospital room, a comfortable silence between us. I know that he was going through everything in his head, about how I apparently died...

His hand never left my back, even after he signed the discharge papers. It stayed there until he helped me inside the impala. At first, he wanted me to sit in the back so I can relax but I really wanted to sit up in the front with him. Like I said, he made me feel safe.

He got in the car, his hand reaching up to the ignition with his keys. With a flick of his wrist, the impala roared to life, the engine rumbling and classic rock immediately playing loudly on the station.

Apparently I had winced or something because the music quickly quieted down when Dean turned the knob to the left. A small, appreciating smile formed on my lips because of the kind gesture he did. Normally, he'd make the music blasting and wouldn't turn it down for anything, but right now... he turned it down for me.

He looked over at me with a shit eating grin before he started driving. He usually drives with one hand, so it felt odd when he had both hands on the wheel. I just wanted to have some sort of contact between us, even if it was where our fingers barely even touched.

Feeling neglected, I decided to move closer to Dean, my thigh just ever so slightly touching his. There, that's what I needed. I folded my hands in my lap as I gazed through the windshield.

Soon, Deans hand came off the wheel and went to my hand. It wasn't exactly a hand holding type of touch, he just interlocked his pinky with mine. I smiled at the simple gesture, closing my eyes.

So safe... so secure.


End file.
